


Part of the Team

by visnjicpreston



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visnjicpreston/pseuds/visnjicpreston
Summary: Based on a prompt from @amazinggracetx on Tumblr(I hope this is what you meant when you said to cobble a story out of it haha)A Garcy MinificThe boys prank Lucy into thinking they left Garcia Flynn in the past. She reacts.[Denise is out of the bunker with her family. Jiya and Connor are at the alternate location working on a new battery for the Lifeboat. I needed them out if the bunker to simplify the story, and I didn't want to do exposition because I am one tired and unmotivated bitch. Thank you and enjoy.]





	Part of the Team

Lucy had rushed out of the common room as fast as she could manage in her ankle brace as soon as she heard the signature pop of Lifeboat. She had been eager to not be alone after several solitary hours. All she could do was watch movies while bundled up in on of Flynn's sweaters, eating ice cream, until they came back. Jiya had told her she should stop moping. What else was she supposed to do? Her only consistent conversation partner had been on a mission for two days, and she didn't want to admit how much she missed him.

Maybe because admitting she missed him meant she would have to admit her feelings for him, which, considering all the hell they had gone through recently and over the past two years, was something she definitely wanted to avoid. Sure they were close, and sure he was clearly not opposed to being closer, but she didn't want to change anything right now. She had made that mistake before. She wasn't going to risk it again. (Garcia deserved to be happy, and Lucy wasn't going to get in the way of that. Just in case he got his family back and decided he couldn't leave them like he said.)

Still, even with her determination to pretend she wasn't half way in love with him, it was clear she couldn't even sleep when Garcia was gone. And when she couldn't sleep, she got irritable. And when she got irritable she got stressed. The stress usually caused her to isolate herself in her work, forget to eat, and get more irritable and sleep deprived, leading to a vicious cycle of all of the above, which wasn't fun for anyone. In the past, only Garcia had broken the chain. He would remind her to eat, pull her away from her work to watch a movie or play cards, talk her through what was on her mind, and help her get a good night of rest.

For two days she had to face it all by herself, and with the added anxiety of worrying about her boys. Her heart had soared as she skidded into the Lifeboat room, and she had been so glad to have them back. All of the excitement at their return was now dead. 

"You did what?" Lucy feels her stomach drop. 

Wyatt slogs down the movable stairs in his French soldier uniform, gripping the rail for support and rolling out his right shoulder. He doesn't look to terribly concerned with her question, and she wants to hit him for it. "We had to leave him, Lucy, we got split up."

Rufus stands at the Lifeboat door, arms propped on the frame above his head, gaining control of his heavy breathing. He shifts his weight to the other foot, gulps, and looks at her. "Look, they were shooting and we had to get away. We barely made it out alive ourselves."

Lucy blanches. If they barely made it out alive, how much danger was Garcia in? "So you left him there? What the hell!"

Wyatt steps off the stairs and moves towards her, hand outstretched. "Lucy."

"No! Go back for him!" How could they leave him? He was part of the team.

"Lucy, we need to rest. We can go back for the son of a bitch later." She can't tell if he's trying to lighten the mood, because in that moment she doesn't care.

Lucy physically shoves past the soldier without responding and heads for the Lifeboat, limping on her sprained ankle. The reason she was left behind this mission, and the reason Garcia was currently stranded in the middle of the French Revolution.

Wyatt grabs her arm and stops her. "Woah, Lucy, where are you going?"

She whips around, eyes filled with fire. "I'm going back for Garcia!" Wyatt's eyebrows shoot up and she realizes she hasn't called him by his first name in front of someone before. "Flynn," she enunciates the name to redeem her slip up, though by Wyatt's expression her efforts are fruitless. "is part of this team too. I am not going to leave him stranded. If any of us were left behind, we would go back for each other." She feels her heart rate start to elevate. "I'm not leaving him. I can't. I need him. We need-" Her brain is in overdrive and she gives up on talking. She shakes off Wyatt's grasp and hightails it for the steps, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg.

"Lucy, wait," Wyatt's tone suddenly changes, but Lucy ignores him too.

"Lucy." Rufus' voice stops her before she can make it to the stairs. She glares at him. He just smiles and steps aside.

Lucy's voice catches in her throat. Garcia is at the entrance of the Lifeboat, looking amused. She let's out awkward laugh in relief as he walks down the stairs, and her chest squeezes. She runs to him, once again choosing to ignore the jolting, throbbing pain in her ankle with each step, and jumps up to wrap her arms around his neck. He easily hoists her up to his waist, and holds her close to his chest. She hugs him tightly, burying her face in his neck, and clings to him, trying to remember how to breath.

"Hey," He rubs her back, talking softly. "I'm okay." They stay like that for a moment, until the two people laughing behind her can't be ignored.

Garcia sets her down. She turns to Wyatt and Rufus, who are both still snickering like idiots, and gives them a look. She might be a little more pissed off with them, but her relief has superseded most of the annoyance she might have had. She'll give them a hard time later.

Rufus wipes his eyes, trying to calm down. "We're sorry, it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up."

Wyatt smirks, and cards his hand through his hair. "Yeah, your response was, uh, interesting."

"What? Am I not supposed to be worried if you leave a team member behind."

Wyatt and Rufus give each other a look. Wyatt speaks. "I was talking about the whole, jumping into his arms, end of a romance movie thing. Get a room." He mock ponders. "Oh wait."

Lucy raises an eyebrow, looking back I've her shoulder at Garcia. He smiles and shrugs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. She turns back to Wyatt and Rufus, and flushes. "What are you talking about?" Wyatt takes a pointed, sideways, glance and raises his hands in a shrug, before meandering off towards his room. 

Lucy looks at Rufus, who hitches his hand behind his neck, still grinning. "That was a pretty enthusiastic greeting. If Jiya were here right now she'd flip." Lucy flails for a response that never comes as he walks away.

Instead, she turns back to Garcia. "I thought you were dead."

"It's okay, I get it." He winks.

She narrows her eyes. "You could have been dead. I was terrified." She scolds, albeit good naturedly.

Garcia's brushes a strand of hair off her cheek. "I'm sorry we did that. Rufus wanted to see your reaction, something about getting flustered and nervous around me recently?" He smirks. She knows he's not pushing anything. He's getting her mind off worrying.

It works, of course. Lucy flushes again and trains her gaze on the buttons of Garcia's clothing, French aristocracy garb, which he somehow manages to make look attractive. "I don't know what he's talking about."

Garcia chuffs softly and lowers his chin to his chest. "I don't either." A mischievous glint flashes in his eyes. "I did, however, notice you wearing my sweater again. And if I go to the kitchen, I think I'll find the ice cream gone." His tone is teasing, and bantery. 

Lucy knows he probably expects some teasing, bantery response but she just hugs him again. His arms come around her, steady, and he traces reassuring circles between her shoulder blades. "I missed you." It comes out as a croaky whisper, and it sounds like an excuse rather than a statement. Not really how she was wanting to come across, but she hopes he gets the idea. 

Garcia goes quiet for a moment. "I missed you too." He whispers the sentiment back, but it's steady and honest. He pulls back. "I'm going to change and shower. Movie?" Lucy looks up at him and smiles, face a soft shade of pink. "You choose." He drawls, like he's trying to sweeten the deal. Like she needs convincing.

Lucy rolls her eyes, playing along. "Ok, fine." He pulls away, heading off to the shower, and she takes the opportunity to change into sweat pants take off her bra. For comfort only, she reminds herself. Then wonders why she needs a reminder.

Lucy situates herself on the couch, reaching between the cushions for the remote, wraps herself in a knit blanket (courtesy of Denise's handiwork), and flips through until she finds an old movie. Not exactly a good mood film, but she doesn't plan on watching.

She hears the sound of Garcia's door open and close. She runs to the fridge, nearly tripping over the blanket, and grabs two beers. She settles in just as she hears Garcia's door open again, and he emerges, freshly showered, in a t-shirt and pyjama pants.

"The Hustler?" Garcia confirms the film, sliding onto the couch and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Lucy nods, handing him a beer, and then pushes play. Taking a sip from her own bottle and then setting it on the coffee table, she nestles down into the couch to lay against Garcia's chest. His heart beat quickens slightly. Then again, she imagines hers does the same as his arm comes around her shoulders and he starts playing with her hair. 

They watch for a bit. They're maybe twenty minutes in and nursing half a bottle each when she decides to start talking, before they get too invested in the movie. "I was really worried."

He contemplates and then shrugs. "They've left me before."

"It's different."

"Because you care this time?" She knows what he means. She knows he isn't trying to come off as cruel. Still, it makes her stomach knot. 

"I told them to go back for you then, too." Her fingers fiddle absentmindedly with the hem of his t-shirt collar.

"Then what's different?" He passes it off so nonchalantly, and it pisses her off. The air becomes thicker in her lungs, and heat rises in her face.

Why the hell are you so content with being expendable? Lucy wants to yell, but she swallows it. "You're part of the team now. They used to think of you like a prisoner of war, or some informant, but now you're one of us. And if we could so easily leave one of our own in the past like that, after what happened with Rufus..." She didn't realize her grip had been tightening on his collar until his hand came up to rest on hers. She releases her hold and sits up, hand still resting on his chest. He keeps his hand on hers and opens his mouth. He was going to talk and try to comfort her or calm her down. But she hasn't said what she wants to say so she powers on. "I can't lose you Garcia." Hot tears well in her eyes. "All I could think about when they said they left you, was that even if they don't care about you I do."

"Lucy." She shakes her head, still wanting to continue, and he sighs in resignation.

"It hurt me that they didn't care that you were in danger. Even though obviously that was because you weren't in danger, but it's what was in my head. You're not expendable. And you matter. And-"

Garcia takes Lucy's head in his hands. "Lucy stop." He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks. Firm, almost chaste, and comforting. "I'm sorry for the stupid joke. I never meant to bring up all of this emotion." He kisses her forehead. "I don't care if I matter to the team or not. But I'm eternally grateful that you do." He presses another to her nose. He caresses her face and then rests his hands on the back of her neck, brushing the tears off her jaw with his thumbs. 

Lucy sniffs, shocked into silence. Of course he would be gentle and loving and patient while she over reacts because she's in love with him. She reaches up to pick an invisible piece of lint off his shirt while she regains her words. "I just don't want you to think you're alone. Because you deserve other people in your life that care, and we're supposed to have your back because you always have ours. And you are always there for me, and I want to be there for too. So when I thought they left you, and I was stuck here useless-" The rest of her thoughts are stolen from her at the pressure of a kiss.

It's a gentle brush of lips, barely capturing her own for just the briefest moment. It's warm, and sweet, and sends lovely shivers up her back. And then he pulls away.

"Lucy I love it when you talk, and I tried to be patient, but you're over thinking again." He murmurs, his forehead against her own.

Before he can do something stupid, like apologize for invading her personal space (which she knows he will do unless she makes it very clear she doesn't want personal space), she grabs him by the shirt collar and tugs him into back into her. His mouth crashes into her own, and she expects him to hesitate.

He doesn't. He opens his mouth to hers, surrendering immediately the kiss. His fingers slide into her hair and he grounds her while she kisses him like he's the air she needs to breathe. Aching, craving kisses. She draws her nails down his chest, and he responds with a guttural groan.

One hand still threaded in her hair, he pulls her onto his lap. She gasps, breaking the kiss, and he moves to her neck. She cranes her head as he attends to her earlobe, then kisses along her jaw and down her throat, working his way down her chest. "You... don't know... how long-" he mutters between kisses. His hand slides under the back his stolen sweater to rest on the skin of her lower back.

Lucy cuts him off and recaptures his lips. She starts tugging his shirt up, skimming her hands up his torso, tracing his collarbone. She draws her fingers through his chest hair. He shudders and groans again, practically growling. She stifles the sound with her lips and pulls him down to the couch above her. He catches himself with an arm above her head and starts teasing his hand up her shirt in revenge.

The lights flick on, and they pull apart. The tech heads must be back. Garcia sits up, runs a hand through his hair and slumps into the couch. Lucy fumbles for the remote, pushes play, and pulls the sweater down. She props her feet up on Garcia's lap, still laying down where he had been pinning her moments ago. Both of them hold a fervent staring contest with the old television set.

Jiya and Connor walk in, talking softly. Lucy hears Connor yawn and head to his room. The lights flick off, leaving the room illuminated only by the movie. Jiya appears behind the couch. "Sorry if we interrupted."

Lucy and Garcia share a glance. Lucy turns to Jiya, who looks very sleep deprived. "That's fine, we were just finishing this movie."

Jiya yawns, stretching her arms above her head. "Finishing? You're not even half way through."

Garcia bites the inside of his cheek. and Lucy can see him visibly suppressing a smirk. She deflects Jiya's observation. "You look tired, you should get some sleep."

Jiya gives Lucy a look. "Right. Leave you two alone. Got it." She casually embellishes her words with a flick of her wrist as she saunters towards her and Rufus' room.

Garcia snorts and looks at Lucy with a bewildered stare she returns. Leave it to Jiya to be the most tuned in. Jiya closes her door deliberately, as if to make sure they hear that they're officially alone.

Lucy is tempted to pull Garcia on top of her and lose her breath for a little longer, but she notices him stifle a large yawn and she suddenly remembers he's been been in Revolutionary France for two days.

"We should go to sleep." She says softly.

He nods and hums positively, but neither of them move. He starts rubbing her feet absentmindedly, and she notices he's slowly nodding off.

"Garcia." She sits up. He blinks and looks at her. She motions to him with a wave of her hand, and they both readjust on the couch, too tired to head to bed. He lays along the length of the loveseat, legs dangling over the side, and Lucy lays on top of his chest. She tucks her good leg between his, carefully propping up her braced ankle. His arms come up to wrap around her, and he's nearly instantly out. She plays with his hair until she falls easily asleep, for the first time in two days. 

They wake up the next morning to a smirking Jiya, and a snickering Wyatt and Rufus. Lucy is flushed pink, with the imprint of a t-shirt collar on her cheek, and Garcia becomes aware of a knot in his neck (6'4" Croatian assassins were not built for sleeping on small couches, especially with small historians cuddling on top of them). He doesn't seem to mind.


End file.
